


home

by roboticake



Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, M/M, Pre-Dishonored 2 (Video Game)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-14
Updated: 2017-10-14
Packaged: 2019-01-17 05:16:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12358266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roboticake/pseuds/roboticake
Summary: The Void is somehow terrifying, but now the Outsider calls it home.





	home

**Author's Note:**

> I needed to let the old man and the whale trickster god have nice things, for once.

For something so grand and feared, for something painted so many times like a monster prowling in the shadows of humanity, there is a strange stillness in the Void.

This stillness, the Outsider thinks, is imperfection.

Wind whistles between the cracks of unmovable, ruined castles, between the frozen frames of broken memories. They have been there, for a long time, without any hope for recovery; anything broken in the Void will stay that way for centuries, for millennia, _forever_ ; trapped in their movement, in black smoke and imperfection.  

The Outsider wonders, sometimes, if the Void is a reflection of himself or the other way around. The Void is empty and dull, bleak, colorless. Too gray and too dark. The light is only there to highlight the features of petrified murderers and victims, of crumbling cities and burning civilization. It's somehow chilling, and it used to be terrifying, but now the Outsider calls it home.

 

Corvo steps into the Void through shrines, and the Outsider observes how the faint sun of the Void sharpens and softens his features at the same time. Shadows hide his graying hair and his too many scars; lights make his eyes colder and highlight the blood on his coat, blood he never managed to clean.

The Outsider is mildly annoyed by the man’s recurring presence, or he is maybe frustrated. He doesn't really know. Corvo disturbs the stillness of the Void, the stillness the Outsider grew used to, the loneliness it brings. He wants them back, not because he likes them, but it’s easier, sometimes, to be alone.

However, Corvo keeps interrupting everything with the low rumble of his voice and his amused chuckles. Over time, after multiple impromptu visits, pity wells up in his eyes, and the Outsider casts him out. He doesn’t want pity. He isn’t _weak_.

 

Corvo knows when to back down and comes back days later. The Outsider is glad the man has a sense of boundary, isn't too invasive. He supposes with Lady Emily Kaldwin now _Empress_ Emily Kaldwin, Corvo has more time to dwell in the infinity of the Void.

Maybe he is bored. The Outsider asks. Corvo shrugs, laughs a little, humorless and tired.

“There’s always something in Dunwall to do, I just want to…” He waves his hand around, making sense only for himself, then sighs. “And you? Not bored here?”

The Outsider doesn’t know. He doesn't know if it's boredom or emptiness he feels.

 

This thought haunts the Outsider for quite some time. He is indeed empty. He eases what he calls boredom with an unwavering focus on humankind, but in the end, despite being the giant nothing everyone fears, he wishes he could be something else, someone else. He wishes he had the choice before, before he was trapped in this place, forced to assume an identity he never wanted, to harness a power he never desired. The Void is too cold, too empty and too vast for a frail creature like him.

Why did he think of it as a home?

He remembers the Void's imperfections and the easiness of being one with it, but now he doesn't want to. He doesn't want to be empty anymore.

Despite the stillness of the Void, the Outsider blames his shaking hands on the tremors of the island.

 

He finally tastes the Serkonian figs Corvo brings like an offering. The Outsider knows Corvo does not worship, though. He does not worship Gods, forgotten entities, death; he worships a dead woman whose heart still beats.

The figs are too sweet. The Outsider still loves them.

 

Corvo's presence changes the Void. He brings with him the smell of bath salts and cigars, warms the cold cobblestones and the chilling wind. The Outsider thinks Corvo is sick, with a fever consuming him. A man can't be possibly _that_ warm.

But when he stares at Corvo’s eyes, he doesn’t find unfocused, fever dulled light in their brown irises. The Outsider sees fondness, raw and pure and honest.

Without another thought, he reaches out.

He doesn't know what he should do, after that, but he is grabbing Corvo’s arm, opening his mouth to say something, anything; yet he knows he will plead more than speak. He will ask, he will demand. This desperation is unbecoming of him.

Corvo is surprised, yet quick to reach down.

His kisses are gentle and soft, pressed delicately on his nose, on his eyelids; more hesitantly on his lips. They are sweet, _so_ sweet. The Outsider’s eyes burn. The onslaught of emotions is unexpected and too strong, too much. He feels swept away by a tidal wave, swallowed up in a thunderstorm.

“I don't want–” the Outsider begins, “I never wanted–”

Corvo knows, and his eyes are sad but there's no pity this time, not anymore. He gently pries the Outsider’s hands away to firmly wrap his arms around his lithe frame. The tight embrace is unexpected, new, and the Outsider feels like he can breathe again. He closes his eyes, allows himself to be vulnerable. Corvo's heart is loud in his ear.

“I’m here,” Corvo whispers. “I’m here.”

And the Outsider finally knows home can be something else than a place.

 

**Author's Note:**

> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/roboticake) if you want to talk :D


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